No one likes a drunk Isabela
by wunderwolfer
Summary: Isabela is not drunk and she is certainly not jealous. Aveline is unconvinced and decides to investigate. Isabela x fHawke
1. Chapter 1

Sequel to my other story 'No one likes a drunk Hawke' but you don't have to read that to read this...it'd be nice if you did buuuuuut I'm not going to make you...I mean it's only three short chapters but I understand that you're busy people…I'm just saying that's all...((_do it, do it, do it, do it, do it, do it)_).

**Warning**: contains **femxfem pairings** and some swearing also has **Act 2 end spoilers**.

This story takes place a few weeks after 'Demands of the Qun' and is post Hawke x Isabela tryst. i know Isabela left just after the battle but allow me some "artistic" license.

Hope you like it please R&R. Oh and the final chapter is practically written so follow without fear.

Disclaimer: own nothing, all is Bioware.

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Aveline stood outside the Hanged Man and took a deep, lung-filling breath; a customary and necessary precaution against the sensory onslaught that typically welcomed any visitor that entered the tavern door. No matter what time of day the smell was ever present as a heady mix of alcohol, stale food, sweat, vomit and unwashed hair and no description of the tavern is truly complete without an account of its unique aroma. It was so potent and distinctive that at a crime scene she could tell if one of the perpetrators was one of the depressing locals that frequented this hellhole, it actually validated the old Guardsman phrase 'follow your nose'. How Isabela and Varric managed to avoid smelling like the tavern was a mystery but her instinct told her that they were on to her sensitive nostrils.

This was why the Guard Captain of Kirkwall was standing outside the tavern door and taking a moment to ready her nostrils. She paused on the threshold, took in a deep breath, pushed her way through the door and exhaled abruptly in surprise at the spectacle that greeted her

The tavern was full of people, lots and lots of people. Good people and not just the lowlifes who usually frequented this cess pit but workers, merchants, servants, gentry and ladies; Kirkwall citizens from all walks of life making merry together, drinking, laughing, some of the dancing to a band hidden by the raucous dense crowd. It was Andraste's birthday, a day of excess and frivolity and had the busy Guard Captain not entered the tavern she would have entirely forgotten it was the annual feastday.

Aveline recognised faces in the crowd, some smiled and waved at her, some shook her hand as she walked past her and even offered to buy drinks for their honourable Guard Captain. She blushed unused to such attention but politely declined their offers. After all she was here on city business, and if she was to effectively deal with the person she was here to meet she needed her wits about her.

The message relayed that the Captain of the guard was urgently required at the Lowtown tavern and when she asked for a description of the complainant the Messenger boy had described said complainant as 'a busty lady wiv'aat trousers nor skirt', she knew exactly who he was describing.

Aveline searched the crowded room for the pirate. She wasn't at her usual spot at the bar and Aveline couldn't hear the pirate's characteristic brazen chuckle. She moved further towards the back of the room excusing herself as she negotiated her way through the mass of people until squeezing through the edge of the large crowd she finally spotted the rogue sitting alone at a table with her back to the warrior.

Aveline grimmaced preparing herself for their customary greeting/argument she pushed her way to the table and found the pirate alone surrounded by several empty bottles of cheap rum and her head laid on her arm as she meditatively watching her fingertips as they slowly followed invisible lines on her drinking tankard.

The Guard Captain's residual anger at being summoned to the tavern drifted away as she laid eyes on the forlorn looking rogue. _'The slattern quiet, thoughtful and alone in a cheerful crowd, something is very wrong.' _

"Isabela," Aveline said gently. She resisted the urge to place a comforting hand on the woman's shoulder and instead moved around the table to face her.

Isabela looked up at the Guard and Aveline gasped in surprise at the Pirate's bleary bloodshot eyes. "You...you are drunk," the warrior stuttered in astonishment. Aveline had never ever seen the rogue drunk despite all their nights in the Hanged Man, no matter how much alcohol she consumed. She could drink the entire tavern under the table if she wanted too and still be sober enough to take on the Qunari army in fact she could probably drink the Qunari army under the table. Varric always hypothesised that this was how she stole the Tome in the first place and Aveline wouldn't put it past the rogue to devise such a plan but she wasn't sure Qunari's indulged in anything but battle, they made Aveline look like a fun-loving harpy.

"Good, it's you," Isabela slurred clumsily tipping the last dregs of her bottle into her cup. "I want to report lewd conduct in a public place. Disgusting behaviour makes me sick," she spat.

"Isabela if I enforced that particular felony you might as well live at the gaols." Aveline sat down opposite the pirate and tried to mask her growing concern for the woman but as always the protective warrior found deceit uncomfortably difficult and was failing miserably. "Why are you here by yourself? Where is your entourage, where is Merrill?"

"She's off frolicking with Fenris, something about an elven festival in Sundermount. A no Shemlins allowed affair bloody bigoted Dalish," she grumbled.

"Fenris and Merrill…are spending time together…alone." Aveline said slowly trying to comprehend and process this new information. She frowned. "I thought Fenris hated Merrill?"

Isabela looked at Aveline with her most condescending stare as if she was the stupidest woman this side of the Amaranthine Ocean. "For someone who's had so many men under her you really don't know much about the male psyche do you Guard Captain Aveline." she said evenly without any trace of humour.

Aveline rolled her eyes at the pirate's double entendre. After knowing Isabela for a number of years Aveline had learned that the women liked to be evocative engaging in friendly insults and taunts but they were always said with a certain affection and fondness. Isabela only became spiteful or petulant when she was upset or threatened so rather than be drawn into another argument by the rogue's cantankerous attitude Aveline pressed her lips together and waited patiently for Isabela's explanation.

The warrior regarded the rogue as she tested each of the empty bottles for alcohol her eyes narrowing in concentration as she shakily poured their remnants into her cup spilling most their contents on the table. Aveline was finding the rogue's distress slightly disturbing. Isabela was usually such an expert at hiding her emotions. Sure she was fun loving, showed her affections for her friends openly and was happy to discuss any feelings associated with her lower regions but she never disclosed her regrets and worries.

It was only a few weeks since the Qunari attack and Aveline still hadn't completely forgiven the self-centred pirate for involving the city in her mess, but to her credit the pirate had been trying to make amends every since she astonished them all by returning with the stolen Tome. Following the duel she had nursed Hawke back to health never leaving her side until she was better, she had even starting giving 'anonymous' tips to the guard about dangerous criminal activities but making it easy to identify the snitch (the crime rate in the city had dropped dramatically but Aveline was not sure whether or not this was because of the information she was receiving or because Isabela seemed to be having a hiatus from her life of crime. Either way it made Aveline happy). So regardless of everything the slattern had done recently the Guard captain just couldn't subdue her protective caring nature and she had to find out what had upset her.

The guard cursed her good nature and curiosity.

"Whom are you talking about?" She relented with a sigh.

Without looking up Isabela waved her hand in disgust towards the far corner of the tavern and Aveline turned in her chair peered through the crowd to try and see the sight that was distressing her companion. As if sensing her scrutiny the mass of people simultaneously parted revealing a very jolly and frolicsome Hawke sitting between two beautiful elves.

_They're certainly not discussing politics_," Aveline smiled at the 'honourable' Champion as the obviously drunk mage reclined back in her seat with her arms around two very beautiful elves. she was laughing loudly at whatever the male elf was saying to them while the female elf was slowly stroking her hand up and down Hawke's thigh. Hawke was usually such a shy and consciences person but when she was drunk she might as well have been possessed by a desire demon and Aveline had to step in many times at the Hanged man to protect the mage's honour, although it was usually to detach hawke from the lusty pirate currently sitting opposite her.

"Filthy whore," Isabela spat sneering at the threesome. "You always stop her from doing stupid things when she's drunk. Take the heated bitch home she's ruining my reputation."

Aveline's eyes widened with realisation, she knew exactly why Isabela was sulking. Everyone in Kirkwall knew how much the Rivalian cared for the apostate even if she would never admit it to anyone. Isabela was a stubborn obstinent fool just like the Guard Captain sitting in front of her but unlike Isabela Aveline wouldn't ever forgo her own happiness just to adhere to some sort of misguided attempt to maintain her reputation - in Isabela's case a laidback too horizontal, immoral, corrupt and brazen reputation.

in the days that followed Aveline would look back on this night and regret her following decision. she should have done the right thing, she should have soothed the worried pirate, broken up the trio and taken Hawke home but then she remembered all the times Isabela had teased the warrior and the way she had constantly mocked Aveline's inexperience with men and laughed at her attempts courting Donnic. on that infamous night in her best friend's life she found herself in a position to exact a little revenge and that was an opportunity just too good to pass up.

Aveline turned her chair slightly so she could watch Hawke out of the corner of her eye; making sure her amusement didn't stray beyond flirts and giggles and quickly formed her plan of attack. It was time for a little vengeance and no one lasted long under the Guard Captain's inquisitions.

"Which reputation are you talking about? The one where you are the biggest slut this side of Suddermount or the one where you never care about the people you sleep with?" The warrior smiled smugly.

Isabela gasped, "I...well...you...," she stuttered confused by Aveline's immobility.

"Are you jealous Isabela?" Aveline questioned evenly raising an inquisitive eyebrow enjoying the role reversal as the rogue shifted slightly in her seat. She found herself really starting to enjoy her companion's mounting discomfort.

"Of course I'm bloody jealous." Isabela barked suddenly avoiding eye contact with the warrior. "Are you aware how difficult it can be for a Shemlin to bed one of them? On no wait," she slapped her hand against her forehead as if she had just remembered who she was talking too, "of course you have no idea you cold-blooded prig." She turned her eyes back to Aveline and pointed at herself, "If I'm not have having a threesome tonight then the prudish bitch certainly is not. I will _not_ be topped by her."

Isabela leaned forward slightly as her brow furrowed angrily. "You know since she became Kirkwall's Champion four people have approached me under a pretext, taking advantage of my very good nature in an attempt to meet her! One of them even wanted her autograph and..."

"And you slept with them anyway?" Aveline finished for the Pirate knowing exactly how the majority of Isabela's stories ended.

"Well of course I had sex with them," she groaned in exasperation rolling her eyes and flopping backwards in her chair. "It's a good bloody thing I can forge her signature."

Finding all her bottles empty Isabela somehow managed to catch Norah's attention through the crowd Aveline covered Isabela's tankard and shook her head at the barmaid who wisely decided not to take the order ignoring Isabela's whine of defeat and irritation at being denied more liquid inebriation.

The warrior leaned back in her chair, folded her arms and silently watched the pirate's fleeting longing glances in Hawke's direction. The mage was laughing as she pulled the elves closer towards her to whisper to them both moving her hands slowly down their backs. What she was saying was inaudible to the warrior and the rogue but it could be easily deciphered by the elves reaction; the female elf turned bright red, the male elf leered, Isabela growled.

Aveline shrugged with a small smile to rival Isabela's trademark smirk. "Well she is the Champion of Kirkwall. It's not exactly a surprise she has so many admirers," Isabela tore her eyes away from the group to glare at the warrior. "Everyone wants a taste of glory," Aveline quipped and, now fully immersed in her role as the antagonist, waggled her eyebrows suggestively (an impulsive action that surprised both Isabela and herself).

"Oh yeah the big heroic mage," Isabela said peevishly (once she had recovered from the sight of Aveline's travelling eyebrows). "If I remember correctly her glorious duel against the big bastard consisted of her either hiding behind pillars or running for her life while throwing spells over her shoulder. Champion indeed," she scoffed.

Angered by Isabela's derision of her friend's victory that nearly cost the mage her life Aveline just managed to maintain her composure and keep her voice level by grinding her teeth together, "I didn't see you duelling him slattern," she hissed through her teeth.

"I would have," the rogue complained, "believe me I would have loved too but him and his bloody bath salts..."

"_Basalit_**-**an."

"..._Basalit_-an. It was embarrassing for a master duellist like myself to watch such a fiasco."

"Oh please, " Aveline shook her head rejecting Isabela's posturing she was just trying to find an excuse for being angry at the mage without admitting she was jealous. The warrior leaned toward the Pirate. "Every person in this room, in this city owes Hawke their lives including you. She is a better woman than I, protecting you after everything you've done if it had been up to me you'd be locked at the gallows."

Isabela watched Hawke smile sweetly at the maiden elf while she ran her fingers through the elf's long brown hair. Isabela frowned turning her eyes away from the mage to play with her empty glass. "That's my point," she answered pouting as she leaned on her elbow her free hand playing with her empty glass. "She's the respectable, principled Champion of Kirkwall. She's not a bitch like us," she sighed despondently and continued quietly, "she's usually so thoughtful, and kind and caring...,"

Unable to contain herself any longer Aveline barked a laugh at the pirate's doe-eyed expression that seemed so unfamiliar and foreign on the face that usually conveyed an attitude of self-conceit. The warrior covered her grinning mouth as Isabela's mouth gaped open mid-sentence mortified that she had spoken her private thoughts aloud. The pirate blushed as her anger began to rise again. Scowling she pointed her finger at the irritating red haired warrior. "She's ruining her good name and her reputation. You're her best friend so get your man hands over there and stop her from doing something stupid," she crossed her arms and slouched indignantly in her chair.

"Oh I don't know Isabela," Aveline said slowly as if unaware of the pirate's growing frustration. "I think she deserves a night off from her responsibilities don't you? I means it's been a while since she's greased the old hinges," Aveline grinned smugly as she used the pirate's own words against her. Isabela furrowed her brow in frustration her jaw moving silently as she ground her teeth.

"You seem agitated Isabela, are you sure you're not jealous that her attentions lie elsewhere tonight?" The rogue began to tremble with anger as Aveline continued her taut and the warrior had to chew her bottom lip to constrain the laugh that threatened to rise from her throat at the Pirate's flushed red face. "She just seems to be following your advice. According to Hawke you didn't want to bring feelings into this so I cannot for the life of me understand why you seem to be so angry..."

"_I'M NOT BLOODY JEALOUS!_" Isabela screamed slamming her hands on the table. Aveline smiled victoriously holding her hands up to signal the end of her taunting as but Isabela's chagrin was already up and Aveline should have known that once provoked nothing could stop Isabela's ensuing, furious tempter tantrum. The tavern fell deadly silent and all heads turned to the pirate. "_And what the fuck are you lubbers looking at?_" She screamed at the room as her fierce eyes darted from face to face daring any of them to make a comment. The room sensibly averted their eyes and pretended to return to their chattering.

Isabela's challenging eyes continued to scan the tavern and as they lay upon the reason behind her current state the male elf leaned in to give the surprised Hawke a kiss. Before the pirate knew what she was doing her rage propelled her to feet, knocking over her chair she stormed over to the trio pushing people out of her path until she stood above them fists clenched tightly, her face a beautiful portrait of hurt and fury. She really felt like killing something.

Hawke continued kissing the elf pretending to be completely oblivious to Isabela's presence until the pirate coughed in mock politeness. "Well if it isn't my very own damsel in distress," Hawke cheered as she pulled away from her present partner. "Do you need rescuing again or have you come to give me your favour? It must be the latter because you don't seem like the type to carry anything frilly," she laughed unaffected by the furious pirate while the mage's drinking partners shifted uneasily discretely and slowly moving away form the target of Isabela's scornful glare.

"Time for bed Hawke" Isabela growled through her teeth trying desperately to resist the urge to punch the smug grin off the apostate's face.

"Well..." Hawke turned to the female elf and used her finger to lift her chin stroking the woman's lips with her thumb. The elf's large hazy eyes looked at the Champion adoringly. "...that was the plan." Isabela watched in horror as Hawke moved her hand to softly grip the woman's chin tilting her lips slowly up towards her.

A vexing heat flushed through Isabela's body and before the women's lips could meet she reached out quickly pulling the surprised mage to her feet and throwing the blonde mage over her shoulder, the intoxicated pirate wobbled slightly with the extra weight as the male elf began to get to his feet in an attempt to object to the pirate's behaviour but before he could stand fully Isabela's fist connected with his nose forcing him back into his seat. She smiled as the action satisfied some of her pent up frustrations.

"Oh Captain," Hawke teased from behind her lifting her hand to her forehead and pretending to swoon "I thought you didn't care."

Isabela snarled as her lingering anger quickly began to burn again, she had never felt so livid in all her life. She clenched her fists again and hunched her shoulders and attempted to maintain some of her dignity as she proudly walked past a laughing Aveline towards the exit. The crowd quickly parted in front of the furious pirate even the passed out drunks on the floor instinctively rolled out of her determined path.

"Hey, Hey, I was on a promise there. Put me down woman!" Hawke protested trying to wriggle free by crawling down Isabela's back but Isabela's strong grip was insistent on each of the mage's legs. "I order you to put me down this instance. I am your leader and I order you put me down and return me to my seat!" Hawke yelled as the entire room watched the scene in bemused silence.

The resolute Isabela ignored the mage's complaints and was ready to leave the tavern behind but as they reached the exit Hawke grabbed hold of the outer stone doorway and refused to let go.

"Let go you filthy whore," Isabela shouted irritably trying to tug Hawke away from the doorway.

"No," Hawke snapped trying to pull them back into the tavern.

Isabela turned slightly and with a huff and pried the Champion's hands from the wall. The rogue paused to open the wooden door giving Hawke just enough time to lift her head slightly and salute her audience with a wicked grin and a sly wink. The entire room erupted into laughter and cheers for their entertaining Champion.

_'Quite the performance, and I thought Isabella was cunning enough to detect a trap,'_ Aveline snorted motioning Norra for another drink. '_I can't wait to tell Donnic about this'._


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Howdy y'all.

Here's the final chapter for this story. A big thanks goes out to me Guv'na Ruaitae who gave me lots of help and advice with this chapter and encouraged me to finish it. She's a lil' She-devil you know, I wonder which one hmmmmm...

Hope you like it.

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Isabela slammed the door shut behind her and took a moment to listen to the faint sound of her laughter trickling through the closed tavern door.

She felt utterly humiliated.

No one respected her in this city anymore. This afternoon some scrap of a boy had foolishly tried to pickpocket her in market! Her! Isabela! The most famous and feared pirate in Thedas, Scourge of all nations, Queen of the Eastern Seas, and some snotty-nosed pipsqueak had the audacity to put his greasy hands upon her pretty things and try to pickpocket her coin! She was no longer the infamous Captain Isabela she had become a joke, a fool for their entertainment, a chastised rogue, a soft-touch. She had been inconsolable even her swift kick to his groin had not lifted her ire.

Just the memory of it was like an augment to the fury she was currently experiencing, adding and building upon it until in a fit of rage the intoxicated rogue lifted her foot and with the bottom of her boot kicked the offending door, the door retaliated by swinging right back and hit the rogue square on the nose resulting in another cheer and round of laughter from the tavern's occupants.

Isabela loudly cursed the tavern and all within her in her native tongue. Hurt and petulant the inebriated woman rubbed her nose, staggered around for a few moments before she remembered why she was standing outside rather than inside The Hanged Man and began the slow walk to Hawke's home with a very comfortable and happy mage on her shoulder.

It was all Hawke's fault, Isabela decided. People like her, like that pickpocket in the market, can smell weakness and Hawke was making her soft and that meant she was vulnerable.

She warned Hawke not to bring any feelings into that one night of merriment but here she was contradicting her own bloody advice. All she had wanted to do was to bed her first, she saw how they all desired their leader (apart from the red headed prig) and she yearned to see to see their jealous faces when she told them all the intimate details of how she'd beaten them to it. But then Hawke had to spoil everything and talk of love and remind her of her loss. All love ever did was confuse matters. Although it had been glorious relaying the fun in exquisite detail to her envious friends, she thought sniggering at the memory of Ander's angry red face.

The sex had not even been the best she ever had but there was something about it that had made it unforgettable; it was like it didn't scratch an itch it made a new one somewhere hard to reach.

Typically she would just seduce the mage again and bang out all those imperfect feelings. It would have been easy too she wasn't the only one of them to blush when they touched but now she wasn't sure she could leave Hawke a second time. She still flirted with the apostate to try and keep up the facade in front of the others but she always made sure it never made it to the bedroom. This took unbelievable amounts of self-control, a difficult thing for such a rogue, so she bedded a different person every night trying to release her frustrations but instead it just intensified her desire for what she told herself she couldn't have.

Isabela was usually adept at hiding her feelings her cool indifference being something of a trademark but when it came to Hawke her frustrations seemed to boil over and now everyone was starting to notice, everyone. The knowing smiles and teasing from her friends were insufferable.

_"I am the Queen of the Thedas seas_

_If you saw me in action you would quite agree_

_None can traverse rising swells quite like meeeeeee _

_For I am the Queen of the Thedas seas."_

Isabela jerked her shoulder effectively winding the mage and smiled with satisfaction when Hawke groaned and stopped singing.

The pirate took a moment to take in her surroundings and realised that disoriented by alcohol she had taken the mage back to Gamlen's house, she was standing right outside the hovel with her hand poised to open the thin rotting door but the Lady Hawke hadn't lived there for years. She groaned exasperated by her stupidity and suddenly felt lost, a strange and worrying feeling to experience in a town you've lived in for years. She walked back down the stairs and in what she hoped was the right direction. The sleeping mage swung gently on the rogue's back leaving Isabela alone to return to her thoughts and indignation.

Even Hawke was beginning to notice her behaviour she thought. She would catch her looking at her with that shy wry smile; the one she gave when she knew she was about to win a battle. The mage tormented her using any excuse to irritate her; sitting close to her at the tavern, pulling her up after a fight, giving her friendly hugs. Her heart would beat rapidly as they touched and she struggled to retain her composure. Even now holding with the sleeping mage on her shoulder she felt those annoying things beginning to flap away in her stomach,

"Like a bloody feeble maiden," she seethed aloud.

Hawke stirred and Isabela stood still horrified that the mage had heard her outburst. But the mage didn't wake completely, she did something much worse, instead she wrapped her arms around the pirate's waist, nuzzling into the small of her back with a contended sigh of the pirate's name. Isabela breathed out silently cursing the warmth that was collecting under the woman's embrace and was very glad when the mage passed out again (from the alcohol or the blood rushing to her bed, Isabela was too drunk to be concerned) and released her grip on the pirate's waist.

It was all her body's fault, Isabela decided. For far too long she had given it too much leniency and authority in her decisions. The pirate was a firm believer that the body should be treated like a temple so she made sure to give it regular offerings of alcohol and ensured that it was worshipped on a regular basis. But obviously this wasn't good enough for her body! Obviously it was a greedy manipulative harpy that wanted more than Isabela was willing to give! And now her mind had begun to join in with her body and had begun to wander and fantasise about the mage and not the good fantasies either; it was all holding hands, walks in the moonlight, sweet kisses on doorsteps and waking wrapped in each other's arms. It was absolutely infuriating and sickening and it was definitely all her body's fault.

It was her body that took Isabela to Hawke after her mother died, rushing the pirate to the mage's side without a second thought. It was so unusual for the pirate to feel any empathy that the move had surprised even herself and when she reached the estate (her mind catching up with her body) she didn't have a clue of what to say or how to do it.

And then if feeling empathy wasn't bad enough, after all her years of investigation, interrogations, scheming and manipulations she finally managed to steal back the Tome and escape Kirkwall and then what happens? She actually felt guilty! So guilty that she returned back to the scene of her crime. So guilty that after the duel with the Arisok she stayed at the injured Hawke's bedside. She tended her wounds, fed her, carefully carrying her broken body to and from the bathroom. She even used her own money to buy lyrium for Anders to help with the healing and chastised Hawke when she wouldn't let him heal the large concave scar on the mage's left shoulder where the Arishok had impaled her and instead mumbled something idiotic about them being her memories.

Despite her betrayal Hawke never blamed her, never chastised her actions, she left that to her other companions. She remembered Hawke's face all bruised and swollen smiling kindly at the pirate's tenderness, thanking her for every little thing she did making her feel so ashamed and small. When her fever had gone and she became stronger they stayed up late into the evening telling stories of their exploits, laughing and joking, and at night Isabela would watch the Champion sleep from the chair she pretended to sleep in.

Isabela's guilt pressed upon her until she was overcome with a rare desire to apologise. Hawke stopped her stroking her face, telling her how proud she was that she came back, how she cared about her, entreating her to tell her how she felt but Isabela was a coward. She felt that the apostate was trying to trap her here in Kirkwall and no one was going to scuttle her and leave her to rot ashore. She rebuffed the mage taking the fingers from her face and laughing lightly as if she was joking. She told the mage she didn't need to flirt with the pirate anymore the champion could bed anyone in the city. She saw the pain of her words in those large blue eyes and left Hawke's estate that night in frightened panic.

She spent the next couple of weeks in misery trying to ease her pain through alcohol, sex and picking fights with random strangers. Merrill and Varric worried about her but she kept her friends away and brooded in silence spending her days and nights in a drunken stupor.

Then when she felt like her emotions would break her she finds the mage acting like a brazen hussy in her very own hunting ground. It hadn't taken her very long to recover from her rejection, Isabela fumed internally. She cursed her stupidity; all those talks had been nothing but lies. She thought Hawke was different, she thought Hawke cared about her but tonight only proved that the bitch was just like everyone she had ever met just out to screw her.

She suddenly had a vision of the people in the tavern laughing at her foolishness sentiment. Except this time everyone she had ever met in Kirkwall was there. Varric and Merrill were pointing and sniggering at her distress. Aveline and Anders had wrapped their arms around each other, their faces red as they cried with laughter. And at the back of the room in her dark corner Hawke laughed loudly with her elven friends whispering the pirate's secrets in their ears.

She stopped on the stairs out of Lowtown and breathed in slowly to steady herself. The night air cooled her burning rage and brought her the faint smell of the sea. The salt tingled invitingly in her nostrils even through the foul stench of Lowtown it called to her seductively. She sighed sadly, missing its freedom.

She shook her head. Weakness, it was just a weakness; one she had to rid herself of once and for all. She stormed Hightown with angry determination with the sleeping mage swaying loosely on her hard shoulder.

* * *

Bright unmerciful light crept though a crack in the curtains straight onto the unconscious champion's face. Roused Hawke opened one eye moaned and then slowly tried the other groaning at the confirmation of her pounding headache. She rose onto her elbows with a frown and tried to recount the events of last night. She examined her situation; she was dressed, she was in her own bedroom, was she alone? She looked around her to check and her eyes stopped on the unusual sight in front of her. She narrowed her eyes in an attempt to focus ahead of her unsure if her eyes were deceiving her.

As her eyesight cleared the memories came flooding back like a hard punch to the head, she threw her head back onto her pillow and covered her face with the sheet. "Oh shhhhiiiit!" she groaned.

Carved into the wood of her very expensive door, positioned so it would be the first thing Hawke saw when she opened her bleary eyes, in very large, very elegant and elaborate letters were the words:

FUCK YOU.

With the full stop marked by one of Isabela's daggers.

Hawke realised in hindsight that there had been two flaws in her scheme to try and captivate the pirate's attention. The first had been deciding that the only way to attract the pirate was to make her jealous and the second was deciding that a few tankards of liquid courage were required for the task.

"Bad strategy Hawke. Bad, bad strategy," she groaned turning over to bury her head into her pillow. That's the last time she comes up with a plan during one of her drinking sessions with Fenris.

_'This time it was going to take more than a ship in a bottle.' _

Unfortunately for the oblivious Hawke Isabela had already found a ship and was sailing far away from Kirkwall and its aggravating Champion.

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If anyone's wondering about Hawke's song she started it in my other story "No-one likes a dunk Hawke."

So what d'ya think? Good, bad? I love feedback so drop me a review or PM.

The story will continue in my next story "No-one likes a drunk apostate" when Isabela returns.

Thanks for reading.


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